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Max had reported that none of the Blood Pack members had been found, outside of “Simon,” and in doing so protected them from being taken into custody by the Enforcers. Most of the wealthy supernatural guests who had avoided being tortured and killed were crowded in a back corner of the manor’s garden. None of them had seen the pack members, nor did most of them seem to have a clear memory of what happened. Much to our good fortune.
After the basic mission debriefing, we’d all been questioned relentlessly about Asha and her powers. Between the three of our accounts of her heroism, I’m certain the Enforcers will see Asha less as dynamite that could go off at any moment and more like the valuable tool she could be to them. The Blood Mages weren’t the only dangerous beings in our world, after all.
Then I learned, which was no surprise to me, that the others had been questioned about me. Max had reassured me that he’d made it clear to his superiors that me, and my technology, would streamline the efficiency of all future missions. I’d been given a handshake by some high-up asshole and a reassurance that as long as I played my cards right, I wouldn’t ever again see the inside of a cell.
Lucky me.
Our team had been given time off until our next mission, with no mention of the final Blood Mage or our plans. Max had later explained to us that the Enforcers would have wanted to take part in this mission against one Blood Mage, and that Simon would likely be taken into custody. Depending on his state of mind, he might never be released.
It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
We would go in. Get Simon. And the Enforcers would likely arrive here within a day or two. Max hoped we could either extract Simon without drawing the attention of the Blood Mage and leave the Enforcers to handle them, or handle him together. Asha would prefer the man be wiped from the face of the earth, but Max had made her promise that saving Simon would be the priority.
As long as he’s still alive.
I turn the heat a little warmer to make sure Asha’s comfortable and mull over our future, then focus on the road. Great pines hedge the road, forming a corridor that reaches north, towards our objective. The last task of our mission. With the Blood Pack released, there remains only one member yet to rescue.
Asha’s brother Simon. And then we can rest.
With the window cracked and a cool breeze sweeping back my blond hair to keep me awake, I reflect on the path that stretches behind me. What a curious and wonderful journey. In the dark days of my imprisonment, I used to bemoan the misfortunes life laid at my feet, its turns that delivered me to that awful cage. I survived by paving over these thoughts with a cheery facade, wearing its mask until I felt its roots colonize my mind.
But now, in the presence of my lover, my mate, Asha, my reflection reaches deeper, undaunted, armored with the knowledge of my deliverance. My father’s violence, my mother’s depression, can be held alongside Asha’s tenderness and the brothers’ mercy. Each forms a curious shape, a rebel of geometry. Yet when their ragged edges meet, filling sockets with plugs, making smooth a texture once rough to the touch, something like beauty attends the arrangement. A portrait gains definition.
In its outer edges lies an expanse awaiting the final pieces.
I cast my thoughts into the future, attempt to predict how life will complete the outer bounds of the portrait. A bucolic estate. Family. Children. A pack of my own. Can it be so? Doubt circles my hope like wheeling buzzards.
Asha stirs in the passenger seat. After a moment, her eyes open, and she looks over at me. “How are you doing?” The words are followed by a yawn.
I smile. She’s cute when she yawns. “Fine.”
She reaches out and strokes my hair. “What’re you thinking about?”
I take a breath, cut my eyes at the radiant medallion of the moon. “The future.”
“Mm, what about it?”
Should I tell her? It feels like too much. I think normal people would have at least gone on a date with a woman before talking to her about houses, kids, and mates. But then, we’ve had a lot of late night meals at seedy diners. Do those count?
I realize she’s still watching me, so I search for words that won’t make me sound like a fool. “Oh, just trying to envision it.”
Asha pulls her legs up, setting her heels at the edge of her seat. She wraps her arms around her shins and places her chin atop her knee in a strangely vulnerable way. “It’s a little hard to see, isn’t it?”
“In the abstract, it’s relatively easy. The dream we all spun together.”
She nods. “But practically.”
Right. We don’t live in dreams. We still have a mission we need to complete. I need to continue fulfilling my obligation to the Enforcers, the one that allows me to remain free while also being part of this family picture we’ve created. And… we all carry so many jagged wounds. How do those improve enough for us to not only help each other create a happy home, but also ensure we ourselves don’t destroy our happiness with our own trauma?
“You’re right,” I admit reluctantly.
She takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because we’re not done. It sort of clouds the future. I mean, I can sort of picture it, but I don’t feel it, you know what I mean? Like it feels sort of…”
“Impossible.”
“Improbable.”
“Right.”
